The first time I met Archbishop Mercieca was as a patient at St Luke’s Hospital, recovering from a bad injury to my elbow. As is well known, he used to make it a point to visit the sick. I was 19 at the time yet I can still recollect his appearance by my bedside, asking what I had been up to, cracking a few jokes and wishing me well.
The next time was at my graduation ceremony in 1988. This was the first graduation held since the reincorporation of the Faculty of Theology in the University of Malta. Apart from us law graduates, there also was a group of theology graduates and, therefore, the Archbishop was among the dignitaries on the stage. The other dignitaries were Prime Minister Eddie Fenech Adami, Education Minister Ugo Mifsud Bonnici, Chancellor Maurice Caruana Curran and Rector Edwin Borg Costanzi. Quite a line up.
Well, following the conferment of the degree, after shaking hands with the persons I just mentioned, I seem to have missed Mgr Mercieca and started walking towards the stairs. My colleagues started shouting “l-Isqof, l-Isqof” which is when I realised that I had completely bypassed the Archbishop. I made my way back up and had a brief but very jovial exchange with Mgr Mercieca.
Little did I know then that this man would eventually play a very important role in my life. As I went to pay my respects to his corpse lying in state at St John’s last week, I could not help staring at his hands and reflect on how those very hands had been laid on the head of so many priests during the many ordination rites Mgr Mercieca celebrated.
The laying of hands is not a mere symbolic gesture. The New Testament assigns to this act the gift of the Holy Spirit and the conferral of authority in the early Christian Church. Ordination establishes a deep and personal relationship between the diocesan priest and his bishop. There is a ‘passing on’ signified by the laying of hands on the head of the ordinand. Although the formal relationship is transferred to the ordaining bishop’s successors, the bond between a priest and his ordaining bishop is unique. It is not easy to describe because it is not just a juridical link but goes much deeper than that.
Hence, when I write about Joseph Mercieca, I do so out of a sense of attachment to the man as well as a feeling of loss and bereavement. He was one of the most significant persons in my life – a father yet also a dear friend.
A lot has already been written about him in these past days since his passing away on March 21. Most of what has been said or written was positive although he was not perfect. During the funeral service, Archbishop Charles Scicluna referred to his predecessor’s lack of oratory skills. Despite this, Mgr Mercieca did have this amazing capacity to evoke the simplest example to make a point. Many of these phrases were actually written down by Fr Joe Galea Curmi, now Vicar General, and some were published in Mgr Mercieca’s biography written by one of his closest aides, Charles Buttigieg. I often accompanied him to meetings of the Commission of EU Bishops’ Conferences (COMECE) and during one particular meeting, Archbishop Mercieca intervened and used one of his similes to illustrate his argument. It was one of the most amusing I can recall but I doubt whether it was appropriate when addressing his fellow bishops.
When I write about Joseph Mercieca, I do so out of a sense of attachment to the man as well as with a feeling of loss and bereavement
Ironically, it was Europe and the EU that brought me close to him. When Malta first applied to join the European Communities in 1990, Mgr Fortunato Mizzi had been entrusted to set up a commission that would delve into the various aspects of membership. When the application was suspended in 1996, the remit of this commission was widened and it was renamed the Commission for the Church in Malta and Europe. When the application was reactivated in 1998, Archbishop Mercieca asked me to head the Commission, meaning that from then on I was basically his advisor on anything that had to do with Europe and the EU.
It was not an easy task because the Church in Malta was practically forbidden from participating in the debate on EU membership. Since the two main political parties had a contrasting position, anything the Church might have said could have been interpreted as favouring one or the other side. On the other hand, Pope John Paul II was actively supporting the enlargement of the EU and the accession of his own country, Poland. In most of the candidate countries, the Catholic hierarchy adopted a position in favour of their country joining the EU.
Another element that made it difficult was the fear expressed by some within Church circles that joining the EU would mean the end of traditional Catholic values in Malta. I recall how alarmed Mgr Mercieca would be whenever the European Parliament would approve some non-binding resolution referring to abortion. It was not easy to explain that abortion does not fall within the competences of the EU and that the European Parliament was acting outside these competences and that in any manner, such resolutions had no legal consequence.
In fact, I suspect that this is probably what led Fenech Adami to negotiate a Protocol on abortion as an annex to Malta’s EU accession treaty.
It was not really necessary; however, it did give peace of mind that EU law, present or future, would not change Maltese law on abortion.
To his credit, the Archbishop was willing to engage in conversations that would clarify his understanding of the implications of EU membership. One of the main fora where this would happen was COMECE. At my suggestion, Mgr Mercieca started attending the plenary meetings of COMECE to which I would always accompany him and, at times, when he could not make it, go in his place. There he would meet bishops such as Josef Homeyer, Adrianus van Luyn and Hippolyte Simon who besides being pastors were also leading intellectuals on European issues. By the time Malta joined the EU in 2004, Mgr Mercieca was, in my view, at ease with this new reality for our country. In 2004, we went together on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela organised by COMECE to celebrate the enlargement of the EU.
Accompanying him on quite a few trips abroad gave me the opportunity to spend hours in conversation with my Archbishop. I came to see another side of him, a more human side perhaps but one that made me admire and respect him even more. When I left the ministry, he would ask after me, call me and even come to see me at my office. When we used to meet in public, he would always refer to me as his good friend and recall our trips to Brussels in particular and to the fact that I had taken him to a shop where he could purchase Belgian chocolates.
When his coffin passed in front of me as it was being carried up the main aisle during the funeral, I found it hard to fathom that the man I saw so many times walking up that same aisle to lead the celebrations at St John’s now lay cold and motionless in that box.
Yet how appropriate that he passed away during Holy Week, the week that leads us to celebrate life beyond the grave.